


Making a Connection

by allihearisradiogaga



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodyswap, Brazil Fling (Haikyuu!!), M/M, Neck Kissing, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Rio Arc, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:41:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29438424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allihearisradiogaga/pseuds/allihearisradiogaga
Summary: Hinata wakes up in Oikawa's body.  Oikawa wakes up in his.  They do what they think is best to switch back.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Making a Connection

**Author's Note:**

> I figured Valentine's Day is as good a day as any to post this oihina thing--this mostly came out of my inability to stop thinking of the Brazil arc and how much I love the idea of oihina's connection there.

Hinata knew that something was off as soon as he sat up. Something made him feel a little dizzy, as if he’d just spun around really fast and then tried to get his bearings. He reached up with a fist to rub the sleep out of his eyes. _That was weird_ , he though as he brushed a lock of hair away from his eyes. _That isn’t the way my hair usually ends up in the morning…_

When he swung his legs off of the bed, they hit the floor a little harder than he’d expected. And when he stood up, stretching, he got another head rush, and he wondered if he was coming down with something.

It was when he tried to go to the hallway that he noticed something was wrong. The bedroom door wasn’t where it was supposed to be. The rest of the bedroom was _also_ not where it was supposed to be. He wasn’t in his apartment. He wasn’t anywhere he recognized.

He blinked again, pushing away any residual bits of sleepiness. He could feel his heartbeat quicken as he looked rapidly around the sparsely-decorated room. A poster on one wall for the 2016 Japan Olympic volleyball team. A dresser next to a desk with only a laptop and a desk lamp. Neatly arranged dress shoes and sneakers by the door. And, by the closet, a full-length mirror.

Hinata moved toward the mirror. He could only imagine what he might look like. He felt terrible, he didn’t know where he was, and he almost tripped twice on nothing as he crossed the room. Was he still a little drunk from the night before? Had he even drunk anything the night before?

And yet he wasn’t ready for what he saw when he moved into the frame of the mirror and saw Oikawa staring back at him. He was expecting any number of possible things—baggy eyes, bloodshot maybe, a bruise, just general bedraggledness on his part—but seeing a whole different person was not what he expected.

“What the hell?” he asked, and as he spoke he realized that it wasn’t his voice, it was Oikawa’s. And judging from the mirror, the voice was coming from his mouth—Oikawa’s mouth, that was. “Oh my God.”

He put a hand to his face—Oikawa’s face—and watched his hand—Oikawa’s hand—do the same in the mirror. He felt the smooth skin, the outline of his cheek and jaw, and even though it was Oikawa’s, it was his. He looked down at himself and realized that the old Aoba Johsai VBC tee shirt and bright green boxers should have been a giveaway that he wasn’t himself.

He moved a hand down to his chest, or Oikawa’s chest, or whosever’s it was, and could feel that he, Hinata, was feeling the sensations even though this clearly wasn’t his body. He poked at his chest a few times before he thought of something and stopped.

He slipped his hand down lower and into the front waistband of the green boxers, moving until he had wrapped his long fingers—which was a weird sensation; Oikawa’s hands were much larger and much slenderer than his—around his—Oikawa’s—flaccid penis. He could feel his hand, or not his hand, on his dick that wasn’t his dick, and he gave it a slight squeeze. It responded with a little twinge and began to semi-stiffen. He pulled his hand away quickly, unsure if he should go down that particular route, even as he saw the slight bulge in the front of the boxers in the mirror. He turned his head quickly away, and saw the phone charging on the nightstand.

He picked it up, noticing a few notifications and the background—a selfie with a few other players from Aoba Johsai, apparently at some point out of school, based on the attire, sometime before Oikawa left for Argentina. He didn’t get a good look at it, however, before the phone unlocked with face ID and he was left looking at the home screen.

He hesitated for a moment before looking for his own name in the contact book. It was accompanied by a 🦐, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He pressed dial and waited while the phone rang.

Then the phone answered with a video call, and Hinata was slightly thrown aback by his own face filling the screen. He toggled the camera on for himself, as well.

“Chibi-chan?” asked Oikawa—well, it was Hinata, but he knew it wasn’t himself. “Why are you me?”

“I’m wondering the same thing,” said Hinata, still unused to hearing Oikawa’s voice come out of his mouth. “What happened?”

“We switched. We’re each other.” Oikawa pouted, and it looked ridiculous on Hinata’s face—a natural expression for Oikawa to make, but just out-of-place in Hinata’s countenance.

“But how?”

“How do you think?”

Hinata furrowed his brow. “How am I supposed to know!”

“Well, you’re me right now, and I usually know what’s going on…”

Hinata wasn’t sure how he felt about that particular sly grin on his own face. He scowled. “What—I’m coming over. Don’t leave my room. Don’t talk to Pedro.”

“Aw, no fun, Chibi-chan.”

“This is serious!”

Oikawa stopped smiling, the sunshine leaving Hinata’s face. “I know,” he said. “But I’m trying to…” He sighed. “I’m trying to keep it positive. Come back to your house and let’s see if we can figure this out.” He paused and flitted his eyes downward, getting as much of a view as he could on the phone screen. “And get dressed first, come on.”

* * *

It took Hinata a little while to find his way back to his own apartment. Oikawa lived in a completely different part of the city and while his Portuguese was coming along well, especially with Pedro’s help, he still had a long way to go. It didn’t help that Oikawa’s proportions were different than his own, and he had found himself a little more off-balance than he usually was.

After a half-hour or so, he found himself at his own door, however. He opened the door and walked right in as he did every day when he got home. It was only when Pedro looked up from the TV with a look of utter surprise that he realized his mistake.

“Ah! Sorry, I, uh, I’m Hinata’s friend. He knows I’m, uh, coming…”

“Ele ainda esta dormindo,” replied Pedro, narrowing his eyes at Hinata. _He’s still sleeping_. He must not have come out of the room yet.

“Oh, yeah, he—” Hinata wasn’t sure what he could say to that.

Thankfully, the door opened to his bedroom, and he saw himself—he saw Oikawa—come out of it. He was dressed in some of Hinata’s nicest clothes, the button-up he’d brought with him in case he ended up in any formal situations. His only shirt, he was pretty sure, with a collar. “Oh hello, Hi—Oikawa-san,” said Oikawa, grinning with a very tense smile. “Come on in to my room.” He gestured toward the door. Hinata nodded.

“Of course, Hinata, I would be happy to come… into _your_ room.” He turned and took some large strides—perhaps longer than he needed to, but he was still getting used to the longer legs—toward where Oikawa was waiting. He felt his own hand on the small of his back as Oikawa guided—or pushed—him into the room and closed the door behind them.

“What the hell?”

“What?”

Hinata watched his own body gesture up and down at him. His first thought was a realization of why everyone commented on how short he was. It was strange to see himself from above. His second thought was indignation. “What, do you think this was _my_ fault?”

“I should think it was.”

“Why?” He crossed his arms. It wasn’t his fault—he wasn’t even sure how this happened, so how could they put all of the blame on him?

“Hinata, what do you remember about last night?”

“We were on the beach. Volleyball, and we won.”

“Yeah,” said Oikawa. He crossed to the bed and sat down on it, lounging back on one hand. It was a graceful, effortless pose that seemed so out of place on his body. He realized that this was of course because it was the way that _Oikawa_ would hold himself. It just looked weird because while it was Oikawa, it was also _him_. “Yeah, and then what?”

Hinata shrugged, wondering what his mannerisms looked like to Oikawa. So out of place on Oikawa’s body. “I don’t know, we got some food, some drinks…”

“And then what?”

“I…” Hinata wracked his brain. “I guess…”

And then it hit him. He stopped and looked to Oikawa, who nodded. “Yeah,” he said in Hinata’s voice. “You kissed me.”

“You kissed me back.”

“Beyond the point,” said Oikawa, waving it away. “We were out on the boardwalk, and you kissed me.”

“Was it bad?”

“What? What, no, _I_ was involved, the kiss was amazing,” said Oikawa, and Hinata could see the red come to his cheeks. He made a mental note of just how red his face got when he blushed. That would explain a lot of people’s reactions to his embarrassment. He looked sort of like a cherry tomato, with his red hair and all.

“And now you’re me, and I’m you,” said Hinata. He crossed his room and came back, pacing. It was weird to see his things from this different perspective—his shelves seemed lower and his bed seemed closer to the door when he was looking at it from Oikawa’s perspective. He looked to himself—Oikawa—and stopped. “What?”

Oikawa was looking up at him sort of expectantly. “Well, if it got us into this mess…”

“What?”

“You’re kind of dense sometimes, you know that right?” asked Oikawa. He stood up from the bed and stepped the few paces toward Hinata, having to take a half-step at the end because of his shorter-than-usual legs and slightly taking away from the air of dominance he may have been trying to give off as he did it. He grabbed ahold of the front of Hinata’s—or, really it was Oikawa’s own—shirt and pulled him closer, so that their faces were very close. “Lock the door.”

He let go of him and Hinata could feel the red coming to his own cheeks. But he already knew what a blush looked like on Oikawa’s face. He’d seen it last night, for one, he was remembering now. Just before he’d pulled him in when they were talking together, ocean crashing against the land somewhere nearby mimicking his heartbeat as their lips had met.

He reached back and thumbed the lock in the knob of the door and turned back to Oikawa, who’d already unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt. It was strange for Hinata to see himself acting like this, but—

Well, if anyone was going to make it work, it was going to be Oikawa. He took a step back toward Oikawa and realized that he had the height advantage for once—and figured that he might as well use it. He put his arm around Oikawa’s waist and pulled his smaller frame toward him leaning down just enough so that Oikawa had to reach up and close the distance between their lips. Oikawa’s fingers twisted into the back of Hinata’s shirt, and Hinata pushed in deeper to the kiss, slipping his tongue between Oikawa’s teeth.

He closed his eyes, and for a moment it was just like he was kissing Oikawa and to his own body, but when he opened one eye just a crack, he realized that he couldn’t quite separate what was going on from the reality of their situation. But that didn’t make him want to slow down at all, either. He bent his knees a bit and put his arm under Oikawa’s legs and lifted him upward, moving his other hand to support his ass as he held him. Hinata was simultaneously relieved that Oikawa’s body was strong enough for him to be able to support another person without embarrassing himself and surprised at how firm his ass was. He couldn’t help feeling a moment of pride as Oikawa hungrily pressed harder into the kiss, his breath coming in hot bursts through his nose.

It was Hinata who broke the kiss, though, trailing from the corner of his mouth down the side of Oikawa’s neck, trailing kisses along until he got to the collarbone, where he kissed him deeply, nuzzling into him as he held him closer, where Oikawa had unbuttoned the shirt for him to have access. He tried to ignore that he was technically giving _himself_ hickies—that was something he would deal with later, if and when they switched back.

As Oikawa gripped him tighter and he felt something hard against his stomach, Hinata realized that switching back to his own body wasn’t really at the top of his concerns anymore—it was there, but he could tell by the way that Oikawa’s hand grasped at his back that this was not the key reason for what they were doing for either of them.

He took a few steps forward, his shin hitting the end of the bed—it was closer than he expected with these longer legs, and he wasn’t really looking where he was going because he was still busy burying his face in the crook of Oikawa’s neck. 

Oikawa—reluctantly—detached himself from Hinata, and laid back against the sheets. He absentmindedly unbuttoned another button on his shirt, while he looked up at Hinata. “Not to be vain,” he began. Hinata scoffed. “Hey!”

Hinata shrugged.

“—But I look really good.” He cast a glance up and down Hinata as he undid another button, the shirt draping around him. He nodded up at Hinata. “Take your shirt off and get down here.”

“I don’t know,” said Hinata, grinning wider. He grabbed ahold of the bottom of the tee shirt he was wearing and pulled it off in a swift motion. He let it drop to the floor and leaned forward, placing a hand on the sheets next to Oikawa, grinning as he leaned down toward his exposed chest. “I kind of like the height.”

He planted a kiss just below Oikawa’s collarbone, and now with more exposed skin, he worked his way downward, kissing him down his chest and down over his abs, reaching lower until he reached the last button still buttoned on Oikawa’s shirt. He paused and stood back up, nodding down to Oikawa. “So…”

“Yeah,” said Oikawa, unbuttoning the last button and curling his body forward a bit as he pulled shirt out from under him and off of his arms. Hinata saw the way his abs flexed as he crunched forward and understood what Oikawa had been talking about with pride at seeing himself. And he understood why he thought it was so sexy. Because it was.

He knelt down at the end of the bed and pulled at Oikawa’s waistband, undoing the button and zipper quickly, shimmying the pants downward. He pulled the underwear as he went, too, and could see that Oikawa’s dick was already stiffening. It was strange to see his own equipment from this angle, but as he finished pulling Oikawa’s pants off, Hinata let one hand drift upward across Oikawa’s stomach, lightly touching across his body, and he grinned when he saw his cock twinge. He looked up toward Oikawa’s face and made brief eye contact before nuzzling into the side of his dick, kissing it near its base and bringing his lips up along the side of its shaft before parting his lips just a bit at the head, allowing it to slip inside his mouth.

Oikawa gasped slightly, and Hinata slipped his tongue slowly around the head of his dick before pulling back and looking up to him. Because this wasn’t Oikawa’s dick, it was his own, and while it _felt_ different, he could still feel that connection with Oikawa that had led to their kiss last night, the potential rendezvous, and maybe the connection that led to their swap in the first place.

He ran his hand back down across Oikawa’s body—his own body—and leaned into what Oikawa had been talking about, about checking himself out. He pulled Oikawa’s dick back into his mouth, with a bit more intensity this time, and could feel its girth, the way it stiffened more even as he pulled it between his lips, and felt Oikawa’s breathing quicken. He moved his mouth up and down the shaft, and even as he did, he felt his own dick press against the inside of his own shorts, twinging even as he pulled the dick deeper and deeper into his mouth.

“Chibi-chan...” came the voice from the bed, and it was his own voice, which threw him off for just a moment. But he pushed his lips down the cock once more, as far as he could, feeling it almost gag him, but he pulled back, hesitating just momentarily before pulling away and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning up at Oikawa.

“Please…” said Oikawa, sitting up slightly and reaching for Hinata. Hinata stood, leaning into him, and let him cup the back of his neck, pulling him closer for a kiss. Oikawa was needy in his kiss, pulling him closer, his hips grinding slightly against Hinata as he leaned down over him. But Hinata broke off the kiss, kneeling on the bed above him.

“Let me fuck you,” said Hinata, looking down at Oikawa.

“I was going to ask the same thing,” said Oikawa, reaching up and running fingers over Hinata’s chest and stomach, admiring his own body. “Feels a little conceited, but…”

“I get it,” said Hinata, and he moved from the bed to the side, stumbling a bit as he got his bearing again, half because of the new body and half because of the lust that addled his brain. He pulled open a side drawer and found a small bottle of lube near the back. He smeared some on his hand and turned back to the bed. Oikawa raised an eyebrow.

“Are you sure you know how to use a body like that?”

“Are _you_?” asked Hinata, doing his best impression of what he imagined Oikawa’s shit eating grin would look like. He remounted the bed, pulling Oikawa toward him with one hand and probing downward with the other. Oikawa gasped slightly as his lube-covered hand brushed against his balls, but he breathed out slowly as Hinata slipped a finger inside of him.

Oikawa reached upward, catching him around the neck and pulling him in for a kiss, which Hinata happily let him do. Even as he kissed him, his tongue slipping between his lips, Hinata slowly slipped a second finger inside of Oikawa. Oikawa’s breathing hitched a moment, his lips detaching from Hinata’s as he leaned into his forehead, resting against his face as Hinata readied him.

“Do it,” he said after a moment, his voice hot on Hinata’s face.

Hinata didn’t need him to say it again.

Spreading Oikawa’s legs apart and catching one by the knee with his left arm, Hinata guided his dick into Oikawa. Looking down at him, he realized that he was literally fucking himself. And he pushed inward, could feel the faint tremble of Oikawa’s body, and the slight smile that played on Oikawa’s lips told him that he was enjoying this just was well. Oikawa’s eyes were trained on him, and after a moment, he reached upward, his hand resting on Hinata’s chest, feeling the beating of his heart and the heaving of his lungs as he pushed into him again.

He closed his eyes slightly, still seeing the outline of his own body below him, and even as the sensation was different from perhaps what he had expected, he found himself not so much thinking of himself—though it was sexy, he knew that—but of Oikawa. He was having sex with his own body, yes, but the connection? That was with Oikawa. It was Oikawa he was pleasuring. It was Oikawa that he was…

He moved faster, opening his eyes some more and leaning down closer to Oikawa, letting their lips meet even as he moved into him. Oikawa met his lips eagerly. It was strange, having to bend to meet his shorter companion’s moth, but he liked how different it felt. He liked it because he was doing it with Oikawa, who was there with him, who he was…

“Ah, Shouyou, I’m—”

But Oikawa didn’t need to say it, because Hinata was moving faster himself, feeling his climax building. Their breath commingled as Hinata came inside of him, and he could feel Oikawa’s dick jump as he came as well, just as their lips met again, experiencing it as one.

* * *

Hinata opened his eyes and felt someone beside him. He blinked one, then twice, and felt as if he’d been sleeping for a long time. He turned to his left to see Oikawa’s face, his eyes shining in the light that was streaming in through the window. And it was Oikawa’s face that he was looking at, not his own. Which meant…

He put a hand to his face, feeling his features. It was _his_ face. His hand.

“Oikawa…”

“We’re back,” said Oikawa, his voice low. He laughed a short chuckle. “I guess it worked.”

“I can’t say it was really the worst thing, though,” said Hinata, not letting the sudden realization of what they’d just done and the way he was completely naked get to him.

“I wouldn’t mind getting this close to you again,” said Oikawa, “but I’d prefer to do it in my own skin in the future.”

“Heh,” said Hinata, “you didn’t like being ‘Chibi-chan’ for once?”

“Please,” said Oikawa. “You know my body had no small part in how good that was.”

“There’s only one way to find out.”

And now it was Oikawa giving his own trademark grin. Hinata let him have it for a moment before interrupting it with a kiss. He was more than interested in exploring this connection—though this time maybe with the advantage of knowing his own body as well as Oikawa’s from _all_ perspectives.


End file.
